


Quiet Solidarity

by fre



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), genyatta - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Genyatta Week, M/M, Mostly Dialogue, Post-Alive (Overwatch)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 19:11:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11720706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fre/pseuds/fre
Summary: tryst on a summer's night





	Quiet Solidarity

partially based off this amazing piece of [art](https://68.media.tumblr.com/409c77bfb1032d96f1c67e872ebd3765/tumblr_oks31xnDMo1rdtxapo1_1280.png) by[katamism](http://katamism.tumblr.com/)

 

Hanzo poured out ramen in a bowl and handed it to him. “You've cooked for all of us, why should you not enjoy it as well?”

Genji held his palms outward but quickly dropped them, glancing at Zenyatta. “Ah, um, thank you, brother. I appreciate that you worry about me like this still.” Warmth permeated through the porcelain pressed against his hands. He knew his laughter sounded fake, nervous.

“You are welcome to join us,” Hanzo offered, “if you feel comfortable.”

What a sour turn for such a lovely evening. After everything had gone so smoothly. He simply hadn't considered removing his visor in front of anyone yet. Now the thought of eating sickened him.

“There is a separate room, if you would prefer, Genji,” Zenyatta said.

“I think that would be better. Thank you, though, brother. We will join you later perhaps.” Zenyatta's affirmation closed over him in a wash of confidence. He could sense the approval in his master's motionless face.

“Of course, Genji, you are both always welcome here.” The two hugged briefly, before parting ways. The heat under his skin prickled.

The other room was small with wide, latticed covered windows and a small place for a fire. The final sails of sunset cast out in shields of orange and ruby, wavering against the evening indigo. Shields of light receded across the dark wood as cicadas trilled in the branches. Young lilies folded close.

Genji thanked Zenyatta, settling beside him by the empty hearth.

“Of course, my dear, your comfort is my priority.”

“You are too good to me, Master,” Genji said, smiling, as he withdrew the metal from his face. He kissed Zenyatta on the cheek, where the steel crested into the shape of his jaw. They had not had a moment alone at all that day, finding themselves quite busy among the agents of Overwatch reborn. They had not even had a brief moment to speak in private, much less express affection for one another.

Zenyatta wrapped an arm around his student's waist. “You will always have my support, Genji, though, in truth, I do not believe any of these people would look upon your face and deem it disturbing or unpleasant.”

“I don't think I am ready to show my face to anyone at the moment.” He remembered removing the thin metal piece at their showdown months ago; of that haunting flash of fear in Hanzo's eyes. The shadow of grief passed over him, but only momentarily.

“Be at ease. It is simply my observation available for you to consider. You have come far on your journey. You have learned much and changed for the benefit of yourself. The decision is yours alone.”

“Master, I had only ever considered being comfortable without the mask around you,” Genji explained. When he had first shown Zenyatta his face, in the intimacy of their placid mountain home, he could not read any emotion being relayed back. It was only what Zenyatta had said that remained of that memory.

“Then your doubt is defeated surely. When one obstacle is overcome, you may find the others follow suit,” Zenyatta said, the same confidence beaming in his voice.

“Not this one.” Genji picked at the noodles, wondering what the conversation was in the other room; if Hanzo was as consumed by doubt as he.

Zenyatta moved his hand to Genji's shoulder, a gesture of guidance. “I did not mean to ruin your appetite.”

“No, Master, I still have much to learn. I want to be comfortable with myself, but for now I am simply content with you. I have not been this happy in a long time. I just want to enjoy it in peace.” He rested his hand on Zenyatta's, wishing for the fortitude Zenyatta believed he had. Even after all this time, he could not see past this doubt within himself.

“Then you have my support, if that is what would make you most comfortable.”

His thoughts were already consumed by what they thought of him; his old friends and teammates, strangers turned friends in a matter of hours and, of course, his brother. He was proud of the man he had become and the change of his demeanor- that was not what troubled Genji. Rather, it was his relationship with Zenyatta that apprehended him. Surely they had guessed by now or otherwise they were likely basking in their own uncertainty. The closeness between master and student far exceeded a formal relationship. Genji was beginning to wonder himself.

Earlier, when they were busy in the kitchen, he had only caught a glimpse of Hanzo watching him laugh while Zenyatta feigned an inability to juggle onions. Just as he had reached to touch his partner's hand, their eyes had met briefly, before quickly darting apart. Hanzo had glimpsed the deeper bond Genji had vowed to keep veiled. Now he did not believe it could be kept hidden. He did not realize how long he had sat in thought until Zenyatta spoke.

“You should eat, Genji. You need the energy.”

“I'm just stressed. I feel like my insides are all rolled together- like nothing is synchronized.”

“Something else troubles you, my student.”

He sighed. “I want to know what _we_ are- like what I am supposed to say when everyone asks about our relationship.” Genji's posture seemed to wilt, his hands limply gathering a neat pile of noodles. “I don't know who I hate lying to more: strangers or myself.”

“ _Genji_ ,” the absolute depth and passion of Zenyatta's voice was enough to change his temper, “I am everlastingly devoted to you. Never doubt that. However you would define this is mutual, I think.”

“Yes, Master, I feel the same for you.” Before, he had turned his face shamefully away, but now determination locked Genji's eyes on Zenyatta. Glassy hazel galaxies, dark tea crystallized like amber over a nebulous pupil; he could not be more the same man, and yet so different. “I'm grateful you came here with me. I was afraid you might come this far only to encourage me to stay.”

“No, my love. No matter where we are, even if we are separated our relationship is infallible. I have no intention of leaving you behind. Whatever business you may have here is not permanent.”

The tension in his shoulders released. “Thank you, Master, for setting my mind at ease. I have long obsessed over this doubt. I only thought you had sworn yourself to the Shambali and that any promise between us was only empty words.”

“I suppose any promise is only words, but not without merit. What vows I swore to the Shambali are void now. I do not know whether they would welcome me back were I to return. The vow I have sworn to you is more important.”

A shy smile crawled across Genji's face. “Does that mean we should get married?”

Zenyatta laughed. “I don't see why not. If we are both committed, perhaps it is the next vow to take.”

“I feel as though we have already sworn it.” Genji leaned closer, seeking affection or confirmation.

“I think you are right. But there is no time for 'I do's at the moment.” Zenyatta's fingers threaded through his partner's hands, taking the chopsticks in his own and bringing the noodles to Genji's lips. He was too hungry to refuse the ramen, though it had cooled significantly. He liked being indulged too much, falling into a comfortable fatigue against Zenyatta.

Flocks of sluggish fireflies dappled the azure night. He was glad they chosen to sit apart from the others. It was quiet here, open to the wide, moonlit yard, and still closed away from the world. Fatigue settled over them, but it was pleasant and welcome, as they rested in the comfort of each other's arms. It was no different than any other night they had spent together in Nepal, yet meeting so many new faces, they would not choose any other company save one another.

“Do you hope to receive your brother's blessings?” Zenyatta asked.

“It would be a nice sentiment,” he considered. “I'm certain he'll be more baffled at my sudden interest in commitment. Blessings are not necessary.”

“I don't think he will deny you that. I think he fully intends to remain a part of your life.” Zenyatta thought about it further. “Do you fear he will not approve of your husband the omnic?”

Genji shrugged. “That, among other things. The Genji he knows did not make the best decisions.” He closed his eyes, too content to move at all. “I already know I want this. Hardly seems like a decision anymore. It doesn't even matter what we tell anyone else.”

Zenyatta could distinctly remember the way Genji hesitated the night he had first unveiled his face, the way his eyes would not meet his gaze. It was not an old memory and since then so much had changed. Doubt came in tides- sometimes relentless, seemingly inhospitable, and sometimes temperate. Any storm could deflate into languid clouds.

Zenyatta hummed, tilting Genji's chin up. “ _This_ is the face I fell in love with, long before I had even gazed upon it. You have come so far, Genji. I could not be more proud, or more in love with you.” His hand came to rest on Genji's neck, delicately stroking where the synthetic flesh joined with metal.

Shadows spread across the lattice. They shared a kiss as quiet and tender as the night, warmed with the fragrant heat of summer grass and wild flowers. There was no need for a fire tonight.

 

 


End file.
